


Caged

by Pyrrhic_Victory (our_end)



Series: Fandom Works - Aaron and Ace [1]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Imprisonment, Memories, No relation between Percival and Aaron or Ace, Slight Violence, Twins, as always, hints at self-harm, magical torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-17
Updated: 2017-02-17
Packaged: 2018-09-25 02:54:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9799652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/our_end/pseuds/Pyrrhic_Victory
Summary: An unfinished thing I will probably never finish.Based off the premise that Grindelwald left a defeated Graves in the hands of two of his Knights while he was off doing Dark Lord business.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Like I said, I will probably never finish this, but decided to post it here, just in case one day I finally get the inspiration to work on it. Featuring Aaron and Ace, my two twin OCs, Knights of Walpurgis.

Percival Graves had not seen the curse coming. This was embarrassing on several levels, especially considering he was the Director of Magical Security at the Magical Congress of the godforsaken United States. He wasn’t supposed to get caught unawares. But he had been, and now he was lying Petrified on the ground, listening helplessly to a bleached pineapple rant about how he was going to change the world.

Grindelwald had already tried to convince him to switch sides. That hadn’t gone overly well. Percival wasn’t stupid, it was logical that the man wanted him on his side. He held a position of influence and power, and he was damn good at his job, all on top of being a powerful wizard. But regardless of Graves’ views on the matter, he would not betray the MACUSA for the dark wizard.

Of course, his rebuttal of Grindelwald’s proposal had been met with slight distaste on the man’s part, and Percival was now reeling from what had felt like an eternity under the Cruciatus.

“I had hoped we could have been friends, Mr. Graves,” the man continued his tirade, and Merlin’s beard, did he  _ never shut up _ ? “So I wouldn’t have to treat you like this. But I’m afraid that you made your choice.” The older wizard got uncomfortably close, reaching down, and Percival stared at him from his position on the ground, a mixture of dread and defiance in his dark eyes. “And I’ll have to do this.”

Graves had been expecting a blow, so he was surprised when he instead felt a sharp prick somewhere on his scalp. Still immobilized, he watched as Grindelwald straightened his back, a hair in his hand. Graves frowned, or tried to, figuring out in his head what the other man wanted, but it was a doomed plan. Everyone at the MACUSA would notice if Percival was replaced. He was their boss, they had to. It took him a moment to realize that the bastard had also taken his wand from his coat, and was tucking it into his own. It left a bitter taste in the Auror’s mouth.

“As much as I’d love to continue our lovely chat,” Gellert said while standing up straight and dropping the hair he’d stolen into a flask, leaving Graves to glare at him from the floor, “I really must be going. But don’t worry, I won’t leave you all on your lonesome.” A high-pitched laugh left the dark wizard and the Auror barely repressed a wince. Crazy bastard. “May I introduce your jailors?”

Percival didn’t see what he did, but he did  _ something _ because not three seconds later two people Apparated into the empty room. Graves had to blink a few times. The two newcomers were identical twins.

The brothers were eerily similar, and similarly dressed. It made Percival wonder if he was actually seeing double. He’d have suspected Polyjuice, because the similarities were uncanny, but he finally spotted some differences, like the scar around one of the men’s throat. An ugly scar, that was paradoxical in its existence, because a wound that size and in that place would have killed the injured party in seconds.

They were younger than Percival, perhaps in their twenties. They were as blonde as the Pineapple, and he wondered if it was some kind of cult thing. Their hair was significantly shorter, though, and styled differently. Even from a distance, he could see the eerie blue of their eyes: cold. Almost white, in fact. Their clothes were dark, dress pants and a short-sleeved undershirt, held by suspenders. That was where the similarities ended, because they held themselves in a completely different way from the other.

“I’ll leave you three to it, no?” Grindelwald exchanged a glance with one of the twins, the one that was actually looking at him, because the other one had his gaze firmly planted on the floor.

“With pleasure,” the man replied, a wicked smile slowly spreading on his face. His tone was cold, but also coated with malice and  _ amusement _ . It inadvertently made a shiver run down Percival’s spine, which was odd in and of itself. He’d faced more dangerous criminals as an Auror, he was sure.

That seemed to please the Dark Lord, who Disapparated without sparing a glance to either Percival or his second follower. A few seconds of silence followed his leave. Graves sneered and sat up, but said nothing. He knew better than to taunt his captors. It was unprofessional and possibly deadly.

But, apparently, they didn’t need to be taunted to act irrationally. The one that had spoken turned his icy gaze on him, grin now firmly planted on his face. “Well…” he started, raising his wand towards Percival. “We’re going to be the best of friends, aren’t we?”

That sounded like an insane person alright.

“ _ Crucio! _ ”

The spell hit him like a stone and he fell back, convulsing.

It felt like an eternity, writhing on the floor, liquid pain running through his veins, all over his body. The only thing he could hear was the sadistic bastard laughing manically and, much to his horror, his own screaming. It never seemed to end. The pain didn’t numb or get better, which made a certain amount of sense. You didn’t simply get used to the pain of a Cruciatus. At some point, he stopped screaming.

It was by then that the blonde started to get bored, it seemed. He ended the spell, but Percival barely noticed. The pain lingered, like the cold from a storm. It was a few solid minutes, or maybe hours, before his body went limp and his head lolled to the side. His chest was heaving and his limbs shaking from the prolonged torture. He didn’t see his torturer turn to his brother, silently say something and leave the room. He did notice his absence a few minutes later, when his head was clear enough for it.

Once the man was gone, the second brother, the one who had yet to speak, approached quietly, but his eyes didn’t meet Percival’s. Even in his sorry state, the Auror could see he held himself awkwardly and that his movements were hesitant. Graves almost flinched away, involuntarily, when the younger man knelt next to him, and, really, who could blame him? This was one of his captors, shared the same face of the man who had just tortured him for hours on end and was aligned with Gellert Grindelwald. Percival had zero reasons to trust him.

There was no reaction on the blonde’s part, not one that Percival could discern. His face was not completely devoid of expression, though, but it was a close thing. It held a certain melancholy. It was weird seeing it on a face identical to the one who had been laughing manically as the Cruciatus had been generously dished out.  The man took a vial from his belt, filled with a clear-blue liquid, still not looking at the Auror. Although he did not seem distracted. He was coiled like a spring, like a snake ready to lash out at the barest hint of violence.

For some reason, this was more unnerving than his twin’s sadistic tendencies.

Graves’ eyes flickered to the potion in his hand, and the younger man’s did the same. He offered no explanation, only reaching out for the Auror. Even in his state, Percival tried to push him away, attack him, but his weak attempts were easily repelled. Surprisingly, they weren’t met with rage. Not at all. The other man barely changed his expression at all. Barely met his accusing gaze.

After a bit of manoeuvring and even more pathetic attempts at resisting, Graves finally ran out of energy to struggle, letting himself be manhandled into a leaning position against the twin’s thigh a hand on his head tilting it to the proper angle. The only thing he got out of the whole ordeal was the sensory input that the other man was  _ cold.  _ That and an up-close look at the assortment of scars on his arms. He was pretty sure the other twin had similar ones.

The glass of the vial at his lips made him flinch, but he realized that if he didn’t drink it on his own, the other would surely force him to do it, in a much more unpleasant experience. It tasted sweet on his tongue, unlike anything he’d ever drank.

Was this poison?

“I’m sorry for my brother.”

Both the voice and the words surprised him. The sentence was almost nonsensical in this situation, and the voice was so disturbingly  _ similar _ to the other twin’s, only without the manic taint to every word. This brother spoke softly, and from the slight roughness of his voice, he wasn’t used to speaking much either. He gave Graves a few second to breathe before making him finish whatever he was giving him. However, his eyes still didn’t leave the ground near Percival’s head.

“He can get carried away.”

_ No shit _ .

At this point, the Auror was not feeling anything that might lead him to believe it was poison. In fact, he felt marginally  _ stronger _ than before.

“What the hell did you just give me?” Percival asked roughly, pushing suddenly away from the other man, who didn’t budge from his spot on the ground for a few long seconds. When he did move, it was to get up. Still not meeting his eyes.

“You hadn’t eaten or drunk anything for over a day,” the younger man answered quietly, “and our master wants you alive.” That made Graves want to snap at him. If Grindelwald wanted so dearly to keep him alive, why had he called a psychopath to be his jailor? But he had no time to do so before steps were heard from outside the room and the first twin came back. Involuntarily, Graves flinched at the sight of him. Sadistic bastard.

However, it seemed the man’s attention was not on him, but on his brother. And for a moment, Graves really thought he was going to hit the other, with the way he crossed the room in long, purposeful strides. But the only thing that happened was that he came to an abrupt stop in front of the quiet one, and Graves could have sworn that a full, silent conversation passed between the two in the fifteen seconds they stood in front of each other.

And after that silent exchange, the second twin stepped back, eyes returning to the ground. It had been the only time Graves had seen him actually look someone in the eye. Unfortunately, Percival could not quite catch the expressions on either of their faces, one being as expressive as a slab of stone, and the other having his back turned to him.

The first twin then turned on his heel to look at the captive Auror, a nightmarish grin spreading on his face.

“Now, where were we?”

-

After what felt like an eternity in their hands, Graves was starting to see a pattern, to understand his captors better. A few (days?) in, he finally got their names. It just happened that it coincided with a visit from Grindelwald, presumably to get more Polyjuice or materials for the potion. The Auror had been fairly certain he would not get their names from them, especially considering that most of the interactions between the twins were  _ wordless _ . (It had to be a curse or spell of some sorts.)

It had started when the first twin, affectionately nicknamed That Son of a Troll in Percival’s head, was rather abruptly pulled off him with a silent spell and a low, drawn out ‘Aaron’ in Graves’ own voice. The Auror had found himself staring at his own, unmarred face from the floor, hate sitting heavy in his stomach. How had no one in the MACUSA noticed it yet?

So the bastard’s name was Aaron. Which only left the Quiet One. That name came second when Grindelwald had already tasked Aaron with getting him some part of Percival, some hair or blood. The bastard, of course, favoured the latter. The Bleached Pineapple asked Aaron about his twin by name. Said twin had not been in the room at the time, for a change of pace.

“Where is Ace?” the dark wizard asked, slowly, in a softer voice than Percival ever used.

Now, Graves was sure Grindelwald was a skilled wizard and a charismatic person, sure, but  _ he _ was a highly trained Auror, Director of Magical Security, and proficient at interrogations. So while Pineapple didn’t notice the twitch of his subordinate’s expression at the question, Graves did. He just couldn’t understand it. And he was in too much pain to really care about it.

Aaron and Ace. Going by their names, they sounded either NoMaj-born or half-bloods. It made Graves wonder why would they be working with Grindelwald, when the dark wizard was publicly not a big fan of their heritage. He supposed there were maniacs for everything.

-

The fourth time Grindelwald came visiting, Aaron had just decided to end the curse he had been putting Percival through. What came as a bit of a shock, however, was that the man was  _ furious _ . His face twisted out of Graves’, returning to its original shape, mismatched eyes comically widened in rage. Aaron almost jumped back, only choosing to take a few cautious steps backwards, and for once Graves saw fear on his face.

“Aaron,” Grindelwald intoned in a chillingly  _ calm _ voice, “I know  _ you _ ’d never betray me.” The dark wizard took a few steps forward towards his acolyte, who remained rooted to the spot, his expression now hard to read. It still held fear and apprehension. Maybe a little bit of pride there, too. “But something happened today that makes me think someone did.” The tentative smile that had been spreading on Aaron’s face fell immediately, replaced by dread. 

They were both ignoring Graves and he remained very still so as to get as much information as he could. Had Grindelwald almost been caught? By whom? “So I’m going to ask you once,” Gellert continued in that dreadfully peaceful tone, “and you’ll answer truthfully. Where is Ace?”

Oh. Graves thought about it for a moment. Admittedly, Ace didn’t seem like the kind of man that enjoyed what his brother and his lord were doing. He never expressed anything, really, besides slight melancholy. Never enjoyment. He could easily be considered benevolent compared to his twin. Even displays of loyalty for Grindelwald were rare. Perhaps… had Ace betrayed them and informed someone at the MACUSA of Percival’s whereabouts?

There was silence for a few moments. Aaron’s expression morphed into one of horror and he shook his head. It looked like a blend of denial and fear.

“N-No, please don’t do t-that,” he stammered, shaking his head, while Grindelwald looked unimpressed. If anything, he looked like they had been here before. Which made Graves wonder why he’d keep a traitor in his ranks, even if his twin was awfully attached to him. “M-My lord, you k-know-”

“ _ Aaron, _ ” the Dark Lord snapped, rage coating his voice, and he wasn’t making use of a  _ Sonorus _ , but he might as well have been, drowning out his subordinate, “where. Is. He?”

Ironically, Ace chose that moment to enter the room, looking up in what might have been surprise. What happened next was a bit of a blur to Graves, but it resulted in Aaron being Petrified, reaching out for his twin, and Grindelwald standing directly in front of said twin. For once, Graves saw a flash of emotion cross Ace’s face: shock, worry and fear. Very real fear.

“Ah, Ace, just who I wanted to see,” the dark wizard drawled, voice calm once more, “You see, we have a little… problem, you and I. And I could ask your brother to brew some Veritaserum, but,” he smirked, and Percival could  _ feel _ the twin’s blood running cold, “we both know how well you can resist that, don’t we?”

Ace tried to say something, opened his mouth, but a swift and harsh slap shut him up and his words died on his lips. Graves recoiled slightly at the sound which echoed in the mostly empty room. Ace’s head was turned to the side, face quickly becoming red where he had been hit, but he quickly looked down, expression returning to what Graves now suspected was the default. He wondered why the man even bothered, he was behaving exactly like someone who was hiding something. It almost immediately proved him guilty.

“Now, Ace,” Grindelwald whispered almost tenderly, or more like a father would to a child, “you’ll behave for me, won’t you?” One of the bastard’s hand grasped Ace’s hair on the back of his head, forcibly turning it towards him, while the other took a wand from his clothes. Percival recognized it as the dark wizard’s own wand, and not his. He wondered if Grindelwald would actually execute the man just like that, in front of his twin.

The truth turned out to be worse.

Grindelwald took his wand to Ace’s temple to extract the familiar silver chord of memories. This was a fairly simple and easy process, and Graves had witnessed it countless times, either to interrogate both criminals and witnesses, or in the execution chamber. He had seen people part both willingly and unwillingly with their memories and innermost thoughts, but nothing could be compared to what happened.

Ace  _ screamed.  _

He screamed in  _ pain _ , like the dark wizard was actually stripping bits of skin and muscle off his bones, body seizing. The sound hurt the Auror’s ears. Percival should have seen it coming, the way the younger man had tensed, his eyes had widened and he had looked ready to physically fight his lord. Grindelwald seemed unperturbed with the noise, barely acknowledging it. They had done this before, Graves realized.

He watched as Ace crumpled to the ground once the dark lord apparently got what he wanted and released him. Without a word, the man conjured a thin Pensieve and dipped into it with the memories. Percival took this moment to lift his head and take a hold of the situation. Aaron was still Petrified, and the Auror had no doubt that he was fighting it with all his power, but Grindelwald was… well, Grindelwald. Ace, on the other hand…

The blonde was on the floor, on the same level as Graves. After a few horrid seconds of gut-wrenching convulsions and pained screams, he finally fell still and silent. His eyes were wide but unseeing, jaw slack and Graves could see tremors running the length of his body. Much to his annoyance, the Director of Magical Security couldn’t help but feel  _ pity _ for the other man. Especially if he had indeed betrayed his lord and his brother to help Percival. He had no more time to think about it, as a few seconds later, Grindelwald emerged from the Pensieve. The man looked at Ace on the ground with a blank expression for a moment, before smiling beatifically.

“I do apologize for doubting you, Ace,” he told the prone figure on the ground, and Graves’ hopes died, “but you do understand how necessary that was, no?” Not waiting or expecting an answer, the dark wizard waved his hand. The Pensieve disappeared and Aaron sprang to life, gasping and lunging towards his fallen twin. He said nothing to his master as he cradled his twin in his arms, knowing better than to start another confrontation. “I must be going then,” Gellert continued, “I expect your work to continue.”

And with that, he was gone.

The room fell silent, and Graves had the impulse to stay very, very still. If Aaron had been unstable before, he was bound to release all his pent up anger on him, sooner or later. Percival rather it’d be later. The man was currently cradling his twin’s limp body, hands running gently over the other’s face, turning it towards himself. He was also whispering something, an incantation or a spell, Graves couldn’t tell.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on Tumblr @the-graves-twins.


End file.
